


and called myself a king

by TheTartWitch



Series: One-shots of AUs [20]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Atheist Edward, Edward goes a little insane, Gen, Sleep Deprivation, nothing to worry about
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-24
Updated: 2017-04-24
Packaged: 2018-10-23 09:33:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10716771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheTartWitch/pseuds/TheTartWitch
Summary: Roy doesn’t speak for a long moment. “Ever wonder what it must be like, knowing exactly how to do anything you’ve ever wanted, in the instant before you make it happen? Visualizing every line, dot, sequence, curve...in less than a second?”





	and called myself a king

**Author's Note:**

> This feels very incomplete but I'm posting it anyways.

His life is lived in staccato rhythm: his footsteps pound a metronome into the pavement, and when he stumbles a void yawns before him;  _ fall into me _ , says what’s left behind after that night, piecemeal limbs and forgotten sounds, like a beast. He gave up humanity to get back what he fed the previous monster, and now he’s inherited the title.

“Edward Elric,” he introduces himself, and the metal holding his body together hums with borrowed life.

\--

Alphonse watches his back as he walks down potholed streets, so he doesn’t allow himself to fumble.  _ If anyone knew _ , something inside him grins like a young black hole,  _ that we’re so alone together.  _

He doesn’t respond; the screaming only used to encourage them. Besides, Alphonse is watching. 

\--

They chase criminals down thin paths, clapping hands together to gather the energy and leaving one palm against the world to release it. He doesn’t say why  _ doing  _ comes so easy now; he wouldn’t want others attempting to copy him.

He wouldn’t want others feeling so cold all the time too. 

\--

_ You could be anything _ , mumbles the pale thing he’s becoming as it kneels beside the chair he’d confined himself to.  _ Why be this? _

Edward doesn’t reply. He’s watching Winry secure his new joints in place. In the chair in the corner, Alphonse’s glowing eyes flicker with something wild. When he waves a glove like he’s swatting a fly, Edward’s void goes silent. 

\--

_ Silly little thing.  _

_ This is where everything ends up eventually. _

_ You just got here faster than most, that’s all. _

\--

Sometimes, Edward finds the little things funny enough to rouse some humor, even underneath the facade he wears for others: how the people belittle the Ishvalan religion, yet scoff at alchemists who plead atheism. How children wobble along the edges of wells, convinced of their own immortality until someone falls. (He’s tempted to push one off just to hear the eventual splash, but don’t tell Alphonse. He gets weird about stuff like that.)

How the other alchemists can feel the judder of something overwhelming from underneath his skin, but still can’t put a name to it. 

_ Isn’t it obvious?  _ He wants to scream, and when did his thoughts begin to sound like that thing’s whispers?  _ Isn’t it obvious what I’ve done? _

\--

He doesn’t dream anymore; hasn’t since he was passing out from bloodloss, pain, and shock on a failed transmutation circle. Now, when he closes his eyes, he sits in silence with a white being and draws circles and symbols on the pale tiled floor. Sometimes the thing will speak, or add something to his circles, or laugh, but not always. Sometimes it just watches.

“You look tired, Brother,” says Alphonse once, in Mustang’s office, and the two of them watch, concerned, as he barks out a snorting laugh without thinking.  _ Of course I do.  _

_ Ain’t no rest for the wicked, after all. _

\--

“I’m worried about Brother,” Alphonse says to Roy one night. Ed’s been particularly wide-eyed and difficult the past few days, and Alphonse isn’t sure how to handle it. “He was never like this in the past.”

Roy doesn’t speak for a long moment. “Ever wonder what it must be like, knowing exactly how to do anything you’ve ever wanted, in the instant before you make it happen? Visualizing every line, dot, sequence, curve...in less than a second?”

Alphonse’s pinpoint red eyes don’t flicker as he watches the wall behind the man’s head. “No…”

Roy shakes his head. “He’s probably close to insanity by now, if he wasn’t then.” He stands, shuffling papers to the side of his desk impatiently. “Leave him be. He’ll figure it out. If not, well, that’s why we have state alchemists.”  _ to contain the crazies _ , he doesn’t say, but Alphonse knows this man by now.


End file.
